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‘Were you finished for the day?’ she asked anxiously then. T mean, I didn’t intend to just show up and force your hand.’
The lift doors whirred back to reveal the basement car park. ‘I was ready to leave. Are you parked here?’
‘Yes.’
‘What brought you to Seville?’ Alejandro enquired as his driver pulled in to pick them up a few yards from the lift.
Jemima went pink. ‘You…1 wanted to see you.’
Alejandro lifted a sardonic dark brow.
‘Yes, I didV Jemima proclaimed in the face of that disbelief.
‘Dios mio—is it possible that you have something to tell me?’ Alejandro enquired silkily.
Aware of the undertones of tension pulling at her, Jemima shifted uneasily and wondered why he was asking her that. ‘No—what would I have to tell you?’
‘Only you can answer that question,’ Alejandro breathed icily.
Jemima shot him an enervated look and decided that while he always went for subtle she was more at home with being blunt. ‘I’m no good at trick questions. Just tell me what’s wrong.’
His lean dark features were taut, his eyes shielded. He said nothing. In the humming quiet, she stared out of the window at the crowded streets and waited in vain for his response.
‘Well, this will certainly teach me a lesson. Don’t go surprising you at the office…you’re keeping such a distance from me I feel like Typhoid Mary!’ she declared in flippant continuance, struggling to hide her hurt and mortification at the chilly welcome she had so far received from him.
‘Exactly what did you expect from me?’ Alejandro shot at her with dark eyes that flashed as golden as the heart of a fire.
As her bewilderment increased the limo came to a halt. They would walk the remaining distance through the pedestrian zone in the oldest part of Seville. The Vasquez apartment was in a gracious old building that had considerable character.
The anger that Alejandro could no longer hide was like a blast of heat on her unprotected skin. His driver opened the car door and they climbed out to walk down narrow streets past tall eighteenth-century houses and finally through a familiar flower-filled courtyard. By then her heart was beating as fast and loud as a jungle drum and a sheen of nervous perspiration had dampened her skin. They walked through tall gates and across the cobblestones towards an elegant building. She felt sick with apprehension.
‘Why are you angry with me?’ she prompted finally.
‘Because you’re a liar and I can’t stay married to a woman I can’t trust out of my sight!’
That thunderous aside punched through Jemima’s defences like a hard physical blow. As she stepped into the old-fashioned lift fashioned of ornate wrought-iron folding gates she was in shock. She was a liar and he couldn’t trust her? All of a sudden he was threatening to end their marriage? She could think of only one possible explanation for his behaviour.
Entering the cool, spacious apartment that spanned the equivalent of two buildings, Jemima stole an enervated glance at her tall, well-built husband and said abruptly, ‘You know I’ve seen Marco, don’t you? How?’
‘When I phoned to speak to you, Maria mentioned that you were with him.’
Alejandro strode on into the airy drawing room where the shadows cast by the palm tree in the front courtyard were dancing in flickering spears of ghostly foliage across the pale walls. Once again the decor was new to her, the old darker, richer colours banished and replaced by shades that were light and new. The silence dragged horribly.
‘Marco just came up to the castle to speak to me,’ Jemima told him jerkily, giving way first to the dreadful tension. ‘Probably because he texted me and called last night and I didn’t respond in any way.’
Alejandro rested unimpressed eyes on her, his wide sensual mouth taking on a contemptuous twist. ‘And you didn’t mention that fact to me, either.’
‘Be fair,’ Jemima urged in desperation. ‘I didn’t want a stupid text message and a missed call from Marco to cause more trouble between us.’
Alejandro turned blistering dark golden eyes on her. His fabulous bone structure was set in hard lines of restraint. ‘Without trust I can’t live with you,’ he breathed with a suppressed savagery that raised goosef lesh on her exposed skin. ‘How could it be otherwise? I believed that we were getting somewhere and then today I learned that you were with Marco, in spite of your promise to me.’
Jemima was trembling, nausea stirring in the pit of her stomach. She had never felt as alone or scared since childhood as she did at that moment. She could feel his strength, his force of will and his immovable resolve. If he decided that walking away from her was the right thing to do, he would do it, no matter what the cost. Unhappily for her she had promised not to see Marco and she had broken her promise. How could she defend herself from that charge?
It was not the moment, she sensed, to tell him that he was being unreasonable, and that, for as long as Marco was a family member with automatic access to their home, avoiding the younger man would be a challenge. Alejandro was not in a cool, rational state of mind, she conceded inwardly. Indeed he was containing so many powerful emotions that he radiated glowing energy. But she could feel the distance in him, the wall he was already erecting between them. She had wounded him and he had taken a mental step back from her and their marriage. She was so appalled by the awareness that he was talking about a divorce that she could barely think straight. She could not bear to have got Alejandro back, to have tasted that happiness and then lose it and him again; it would be too cruel to bear.
Too late she saw where she had gone wrong. She had seriously underestimated the damage being done by Alejandro’s conviction that she had been unfaithful. And she had made that cardinal error because she had known that she was innocent and had loftily dismissed the likely fallout from his destructive belief that she was not to be trusted. But she could also be a fast learner. When she feared losing Alejandro, no other loyalty had the power to hold her and she broke the silence in haste.
‘There’s never been anything between your brother and me and he will be speaking to you about that by the end of the week,’ Jemima told Alejandro in a feverish rush, too worked up to stop and plan what she had to say before she spoke.
Alejandro was frowning at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Marco informed me that he never actually told you that we had had an affair—he just didn’t deny your accusation. But, by the start of the weekend, you’ll know the truth because either he or I will tell you why there was never any possibility of an affair…’
‘Porque demonios!’ Alejandro exclaimed in frustration at that tangled explanation. ‘Stop talking to me in riddles!’
‘I gave my word to Marco that I would let him talk to you before I did.’
Outrage flared in Alejandro’s brooding scrutiny. ‘If there is something that I should know, I demand that you tell me now!’
The silence closed round them, thick and heavy as treacle.
‘Marco is gay.’ Jemima almost whispered the words, conscious of the pledge she had given and even while she refused to be bound by it she felt the bite of guilt and regret all the same. ‘So there was never any question of anything intimate between us.’
Alejandro studied her in irate consternation. Are you trying to come up with a good cover story now? That’s a despicable lie to tell me about my brother.’
‘I appreciate that what I’ve just told you may come as a shock to you, but I’m not lying or trying to come up with a story,’ Jemima protested fiercely.
‘My brother has been dating…very extensively…since he was sixteen years old. I think we would know by now if he were gay,’ Alejandro proclaimed very drily, his lean, strong face hard with denial.
‘Marco has done everything possible to hide his true nature and he was at university before he reached the conclusion that he was gay. The girlfriends were just part of the pretence he put up. Didn’t you ever wonder why he never hung onto a
ny of them for longer than a couple of weeks?’
‘Not many young men in his age group want a serious relationship.’
An uncertain laugh fell from Jemima’s lips. ‘I’m not getting anywhere with you, am I? You just don’t believe me but I am telling you the truth. Marco didn’t want anyone to know, not you and particularly not his mother. I know Doña Hortencia’s outlook and Marco was afraid she would cut off the allowance she gives him.’
‘As there is no question of my brother being gay, we will not discuss the matter further,’ Alejandro pronounced with derision, his sensual mouth curling with disdain. ‘But I would not have believed that even you would sink as low as to tell such lies.’
Having paled, Jemima took another tack in the hope of convincing him. ‘From what I can understand Marco is still with Dario Ortini,’ she remarked gingerly.
